Leia, The Ice Princess
by turndownthebrightlights
Summary: About a month post-Endor. Leia, along with Han, Luke, and the gang, are busy rebuilding the government, and reclaiming their lives, when Leia falls randomly ill. Lots of Princess Leia thoughts, and feelings. Luke taking care of Leia. Han being Han. Incredibly random and fluffy.


Leia had been taught since birth to keep her emotions in check. Her adoptive parents were loving, of course. Extremely loving, as well as nurturing. But, they weren't afraid to share with her that the galaxy was not as kind. It was their teachings that created inside of Leia a place in her mind where her feelings would go, allowing only the rational and the clear thoughts to come forward and out as her expressions, or words. In Alderaan, though she was adored and respected, she had still heard her own people refer to her as "the ice princess" on more than one occasion. Somewhere inside of her, perhaps in that place where the feelings went, she knew this was supposed to hurt her. Instead, especially after her parents' deaths during the traumatic Alderaan destruction, she somehow took it as a complement.

She was strong. She would fight.

There was something else, too, that held her there, but she could never articulate what it was. It had been there her whole life - this energy, this calm feeling that flowed through her even when she knew she was anything but calm. It was on that feeling that she focused during Vader's interrogation, and just like that, she resisted everything.

But, the place with the feelings could only stay hidden until nightfall. For, it was at night when Leia was besieged by the horrific, surrealistic dreams of interrogation, of Alderaan, of battle, of her family, and of her friends. She'd awaken, sometimes whimpering, other times, screaming, on the cot in her quarters, which was each night freshly dampened by the cold sweat of her skin. On the Falcon, she strove especially to limit sleep, so as to prevent Han, or Chewie, or Luke, if he was there, from hearing her shrieks and seeing in her one of the weaknesses she strove so determinedly to hide. It had happened, occasionally, and each time, she felt vulnerable and humiliated. Han, for as much grief as he had tried to give her before their relationship, seemed to understand that she needed to be alone after the nightmares, and never rushed in when she screamed. He'd call through the door, though, asking if she was okay, and, upon hearing confirmation that it was only "another nightmare," he'd leave her alone.

He never wanted to, though, he told her later. Every time, he had wanted to stay, and hold her.

Luke wasn't as good at staying away. She'd hear him - feel him? - leaning against the door to her quarters, hesitating.

Her brother.

Leia averaged, alarmingly, only a few hours of sleep a night, until about once a week, when the exhaustion caught up with her, and she'd suddenly collapse into a long, breathtakingly dreamless slumber. A sleep when she was finally too exhausted to dream.

For those other nights, when Leia inevitably couldn't sleep, she'd reach over in her panic, sweat and silent tears sticking to her face, and read data pads, or watch holovids from other parts of the galaxy, from people whose lives weren't invested in rebelling or fighting. They should be thanking her, truthfully, for her sacrifice, but instead, she wanted to thank them. They were her only escape. She'd fallen asleep with a holovid playing more times than she could count. Besides, this was her life, probably forever, she figured. This was _her_ duty. Where else would she go? Alderaan was gone. What other life could there ever be, now?

Still, though she was steadfastly resolved to rebellion life, there was a part of her that missed home. It was that part of her that ached during the dreams, that part of her that she couldn't cover with the mask she wore each day. It was the part of her that so desperately missed Alderaan, with its beauty, and her parents, with theirs. She even missed her aunts, and those lessons, the never-ending lessons on diplomacy, and self-defense, and hair braiding, and galaxy languages. Most of all, she missed the flowers, those beautiful pink-purple flowers that would bloom every spring in the palace garden. And, she missed swimming in the pristine waters by the palace. Leia couldn't remember the last time that she had been swimming. She used to love the way that everything just melted away as her body made its way through the waters. The last time she swam must have been as a teenager in that palace pool.

She wasn't sure she'd ever swim again.

In her quarters back on the base, she'd allowed herself a vase of paper flowers. It was the best she could do on a planet colder than time.

She didn't take very good care of herself, everyone in the rebellion knew that much. On especially busy days in the control room, Leia often had to be reminded to eat, to sit down, to be a human. This reminder usually came gently from those in command, because certainly no one else would dare suggest to the princess, even in kindness, that she'd been working for twelve straight hours and might want to take a small break.

Han, however, was never one of those nervous people. From the moment he met her, he'd tell her exactly what he thought of things, and he'd do it while adding, "Your _worshipfulness_ ," to the end of it, as though her royal title was just a game of dress-up.

He infuriated her and she found herself falling in love with him, and that had infuriated her even more.

She had always felt something toward Luke, too, something she couldn't quite place. In the beginning, she had assumed that it was a crush. Soon, however, she began to understand that, no, that wasn't it. It was something different; something familiar, like a long lost friendship. It was a good thing she realized it, too, considering what Luke had revealed to her a few months ago.

Her _brother_.

It had all made sense, then, in that moment. Leia felt as though a wall or a shield of some kind had been standing inside of her, hiding all of this knowledge, and with Luke's words, came tumbling down. Suddenly, she knew everything. She _knew_ he was her brother. Was that how the Force worked?

But, her father. She also knew that Vader was her father.

No. He may have provided her with genetic material, even the force itself, but he would never be her father. Her father died on Alderaan.

Still, it was all so much to process. She wondered if she'd ever feel like she had processed it.

She was, now, helping to rebuild the galaxy's governmental systems, and, really, the galaxy as a whole, after the Battle of Endor. She, Han, and Luke had landed in Chandrilla days earlier, along with other government and military leaders. Their plans had paid off, and there was an incredible sense of hope and relief amongst everyone, but as Leia always knew, the work was never really done.

The three were staying in a hotel, a very nice one, despite Leia's insistence that the Chandrilla leaders not set them up in anything too fancy, and Han's insistence that the Falcon would suffice. However, after months of not-fancy, of ration bars, and battle, she couldn't deny that the fancy was, nonetheless, enjoyable. Han had left with Chewie and the droids to get breakfast. He and Chewie were so thrilled to be free of ration bars that they had been springing for take-out constantly like kids in a candy store.

Leia had been feeling weird lately. She was fatigued and felt generally out of whack, but she figured she had earned her exhaustion. They all had. She had been sleeping later and later into the day, and had to force herself to get up for the endless planetary meetings. The night before, on the trip to Chandrilla, she had nodded off immediately after dinner, her head drooping into her hand as Han, Luke, and Chewie played chess. Luke had been eyeing her strangely all evening, and at that point, he leaned over her, placing a hand across her forehead. "You feeling okay?" he asked, as she opened her eyes to meet his.

"Just really tired," she mumbled, shaking herself awake.

Han had looked at Luke confusedly, and then at Leia with concern. "You're not doing some kind of Force thing, are you?" he asked warily. "Do you know something she doesn't?"

Han had never believed in the Force, but now, after all that had happened in the past four years, he had never believed in anything more.

Luke had paused before answering, his hand still on Leia's forehead. He finally pulled his hand away. "No, no. Just not like her to fall asleep like that."

She had promised them that she was okay, really, just tired, and Han had walked her to bed as Luke looked on, still eyeing her critically. She slept the entire night, only awakening when she dreamed of a child with Han's facial structure, and her deep brown eyes. He was dressed in dark cloaks, his eyes filled with fury…

She was startled awake by the dream, her eyes wide, and her entire body shaking. She was vaguely aware that Luke was on the other bed next to hers, watching a holovid, its light flickering across the room. He didn't seem to notice that she was awake. At least she hadn't screamed. _But, what was that?_ she thought, shuddering at the memory of the dream. She and Han had been married almost immediately after the battle. It felt right to seize the moment and, not one for much ceremony, the event had been simple and loving. They had joked about having children, but hadn't really had too many serious discussions on the topic. They had only been married a month, after all. But, that dream was playing one of her deepest fears - that her DNA was somehow tainted from being Vader's child. Her nightmares didn't usually touch that subject. They were typically the same every time, but no less awful, replaying Alderaan, her interrogation…those moments she buried so deeply in hopes of getting through the day. They haunted her, but they didn't surprise her. This surprised her.

Her stomach churned with the pounding of her heart. Leia was rarely ill, but for the first time in a long time, she actually felt sick. She laid there for a moment, staring up at the ceiling, hearing the sounds of Luke's holovid, trying to calm her breathing, and hoping the feeling would pass. She just needed to calm down. It was the dream; it had shaken her up. Gods, there was nothing worse than that nauseated feeling, but it kept increasing no matter her efforts. Luke turned toward her, then, his face concerned. He always seemed to know when there was something wrong with her. The Force? A twin thing? She didn't know, but she knew that she really, really didn't want to be sick, particularly not with Luke in the room. He was her brother, yes, but she was no less uncomfortable with the idea of being that vulnerable around him. It was basically an instinct. She hadn't been called "the ice princess" for nothing. _Please, please, please_. She swallowed hard, but her body was fighting against her wishes. A heat pushed itself up to her face as if taunting her that she wasn't as invincible as she'd hoped, and sweat followed suit, beginning to decorate her forehead.

"Leia, are you alright?"

She put a hand to her mouth, afraid that her answer to Luke would be in liquid form. _No, no I'm actually going to…_

She lifted herself out of bed, heading queasily toward the refresher, still unable to answer her brother. She heard Luke calling her name, his footsteps hurriedly following. _Han out buying breakfast, Luke watching holovision, and me about to puke. We're accomplishing so much on this mission_ , she thought bitterly, knowing she'd laugh if she didn't feel so terrible.

She rushed into the bathroom, slammed shut the door, and knelt down before the toilet, reaching behind her head to gather her long chestnut locks, unbraided from sleep. For all her focus on being a rebel soldier, a leader just as strong as the men, she had actually always enjoyed having long, elaborately-styled hair. The braids were comforting; they were Alderaanian royalty tradition, taught to her by her adoptive mother, and her aunts. Her hair needed to be long to maintain those kinds of braids, and they hadn't been particularly easy styles to learn, so she was kind of secretly proud of her ability to lace her locks in any imaginable way. Right now, though, there was a glaring downside - she had crazy long hair that got in the way when not braided.

Leia held onto the messy bunch she had gathered as best as she could, and took slow breaths, still desperately willing herself not to actually throw up.

"Leia?" Luke knocked on the door, and then opened it without waiting for an answer. That was predictable. She had made quite a scene, after all. He walked toward her and knelt down next to her, his hand on her back. "Are you sick?" he continued softly, asking the obvious.

She kept breathing. Her stomach turned, more nauseated than she'd been in a long time. She felt overheated and shaky. "I don't know," she managed to murmur anxiously. "I think I'm going to be. I don't know what's wrong with me."

"Alright, it's okay," he soothed, one hand remaining on her back, as the other reached up to take her gathering of hair away from her, which turned out to be the best decision, because he could hold more of it than she could, and just in time for her stomach contents to swiftly exit her body despite her protests. Leia had won many battles, but this was one she couldn't help but lose.

Luke gently brushed loosened tendrils back into the knot of hair in his hands and kept repeating that it was okay, that it was fine. He knew she would be upset, knew she wasn't one to show weakness willingly. Nonetheless, he couldn't help but marvel at how Leia still somehow managed to make something as unprincessy as vomiting appear regal; she barely even made a sound. He moved his other hand from her back, and rested it on her forehead. Her skin was clammy and warm. "I can't tell if you're hot, because you have a fever, or because you just got sick," he noted quietly.

Leia leaned back slightly from the toilet, and looked up at him, her face flushed and embarrassed. "It's probably just from getting sick," she explained weakly. "I felt really hot…I feel really hot." She tried in vain to fan herself; she was beginning to feel lightheaded. _That would really ice the dignity cake_ , she thought. _Vomit, and then lose consciousness_.

"Hang on," Luke told her, standing up and retrieving a couple of cloths from the rack by the sink. He ran them both under the cool water of the faucet, wringing them out before placing one across her neck, and holding the other against her forehead himself.

Her first instinct was to resist care - it was always her first instinct - but the immediate coolness won her over. "Oh, that's so nice," she whispered, closing her eyes for a moment. "Thank you."

"Of course, Sis," he answered easily, and Leia couldn't help but smile despite her predicament. _Sis_. She liked how that sounded. "How do you feel now?"

Leia leaned her head back against the wall of the refresher, taking deep breaths. Usually, she'd lie, but at this point, she figured, why bother? He'd officially seen her at her worst. "Honestly? I still feel so sick."

"It may be a virus," Luke said, running the cloth across her face. "We'll scan you and figure out what's going on."

As if in response, that terrible, queasy feeling returned to Leia. "I think I'm going to be sick again," she told him in dismay, her voice wobbly. Luke helped her to lean forward once more, pressing the cool cloth against her face, looking sympathetic, while his other hand still kept her hair at bay. She never let anyone see her like this. She was humiliated and felt absolutely awful, but she couldn't deny how grateful she was to have found such a wonderful brother.

For some reason, after that round, she felt better. Much better, actually. She allowed Luke to help her up and walk her back to bed, namely because she knew he wouldn't accept her protests, and also because, after what he'd just seen, her invincible shield was certainly shattered anyway. "That was embarrassing," she admitted as he helped her under the covers of the bed. "I'm sorry you had to watch that."

"Don't be embarrassed." He touched her forehead again, as though he were certain that this action would eventually tell him what was going on. "I'm worried about you. You're never this sick."

"I guess I'm making up for it now," she chuckled ruefully, leaning her head back against the pillows and closing her eyes.

"I need to get a hold of Han and ask him to go by the ship to get the scanner," Luke told her. "Let me get you some water. I know you must want something to drink."

"Oh, yes, please," she agreed. Gods, what an awful experience.

Luke filled a glass, and brought it to her. She drank enthusiastically, in huge gulps, and Luke shook his head. "Take it easy," he warned. "Maybe just small sips."

"I can't help it; my mouth tastes disgusting," Leia remarked, setting the glass on the night stand at her bedside.

Luke sat down next to her. "I know," he sympathized, rubbing her back. "How's your stomach now?"

"It's so weird," she explained. "It's like nothing happened. I feel perfectly fine. A little out-of-sorts, but fine."

Luke looked at her thoughtfully, and Leia frowned. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Last night, could you sense that I was sick? Is that why you kept looking at me?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. I was sensing something. I'm still sensing something, honestly. I don't know what it is. I guess it must just be that you're sick." He looked down for a moment. "I wish we had grown up together," he said thoughtfully. "We had such an instant bond when we met. I wonder what it would've been like to grow up together."

Leia smiled sadly. "I wonder that, too. I always wanted siblings."

"And maybe we wouldn't have kissed," he added, cringing at the memory. "I don't think I'll ever get over that."

"We didn't know," Leia laughed. "Really, we were sensing something. We just completely misinterpreted it!"

"That's putting it mildly."

Leia laughed harder, and closed her eyes. "Sometimes I think my life is so bizarre. I try not to think about it."

"It's probably best not to," Luke agreed, and they sat there for a moment, together in the silence of the weirdness, before he asked softly, "What can I do for you? Do you want to sleep? Do you want to try to eat?"

"Ugh, no food," she groaned, opening her eyes. "No food for awhile. I may just try to rest."

"Okay." He patted her shoulder, and stood up from the bed. "I'm going to comm Han and see if he'll grab the scanner, if he's not already close to the hotel."

She nodded, and closed her eyes once more. "Thank you." Her eyes flew open again. "Please try not to make him panic."

Luke laughed. "I'll try. Let me know if I'm being too loud or anything, okay? Maybe you just need to sleep it off…"

She felt herself beginning to drift off, the sounds of Luke explaining to Han that she had been sick sounding like voices in some faraway land. _Was she dreaming?_ Han was worried. She could hear Luke telling him that she was okay; she just needed to sleep. It was probably just a virus…

"I wonder if you were loud in the womb," she heard herself mumble suddenly.

"Han, hold on," Luke was saying, and then, "What, Leia? You okay?"

"In the womb," she repeated sleepily. "I wonder if you were loud."

Luke snickered. "I probably was. I also probably ate all the food."

He turned back to Han, then. "She's talking in her sleep," he was saying, but Leia paid no attention.

"You probably did. My dad said I was born small," she agreed, and then fell into a deep sleep.

She woke up this time, twenty-minutes or so later, to the smell of carry-out breakfast, and the feeling of a temperature strip on her forehead. Han, Chewie, and Luke were both looking down at her, their faces serious, Han with the diagnostic scanner in his hands. "Hey, sweetheart," he said in a voice far more gentle than his usual, gruffy way of talking. He removed the strip, and leaned down to kiss her forehead. "How are you feeling?"

It was strange and almost cringeworthy to have them all hovering over her. Usually, she was the one hovering over them, barking orders and strategizing. The thought made her remember their afternoon galactic senate meeting, and she sat straight up in response. "I have to get ready!" she answered. "What time is it?"

"Wait a minute, take it easy," Han urged, sitting down on the bed. "You're sick."

She sighed. "I really feel a lot better. Did you run the scanner?"

"We tried, but it keeps saying _inconclusive_." He shook the equipment angrily. "Damn thing's probably broken."

Luke picked up the temperature strip. "Still no fever," he said in confusion. "I don't understand. She was so sick."

Leia looked past Luke to the night stand, where the Falcon's entire emergency medical kit had been placed, its contents scattered across the wood. Couldn't just grab the scanner, huh? She pictured Han grabbing the entire kit and racing back to the hotel for her. She felt suddenly emotional at the image.

"I'm really okay, guys," she promised. "I don't know what happened…" Leia thought for a moment, remembering. "I did have this weird dream. Maybe it just shook me up too much. I'm sure it's nothing…"

Luke tilted his head. "You didn't tell me about a dream."

"I was too ill to think about it," she said apologetically. "It was just another nightmare. It's nothing. That must have been what it was, because I feel fine now."

Luke and Han remained at her side, staring at her.

" _Guys_ , really." She laughed at their seriousness. "I'm _fine_."

"You were really sick, Leia…" Luke said warily.

"I know. But, I'm okay now. And we have to go to this meeting. It's the entire reason we're here."

Han ran his hand down his face in frustration. "If you say so," he finally agreed resignedly. He knew enough to know that arguing with Leia would never end well. "But, if you start feeling even a little sick again, you're going to a clinic."

"Fair enough," she agreed, moving to stand.

Han sighed, and took her hand, helping her out of bed. "You don't make things easy, Princess."

They were married now, and he was still doing that, still using her title as some kind of insult. She grinned wickedly. "Proud of it."

"I know you probably don't feel like eating, but I brought you some breakfast." He gestured to a spread of local breakfast foods that was far too elaborate for the number of people in the suite.

"Did you save some for the rest of the planet?" Leia asked, taking a seat at the table.

Han contorted his face in annoyance, and she laughed. Leia looked at a bagel for a moment, mentally judging whether or not she could eat it, and ultimately reached for the food.

"Well, if you feel like eating, you must be doing somewhat better," Luke acknowledged.

"See?" Leia agreed, bringing the bagel to her lips. "It was just a nightmare. I forgot about it, but that must have been what it was."

"Alright," Han sighed, sitting next to Leia, and placing an arm around her. "I still think you're just stubborn."

Luke stared at her, that same critical gaze in his eye. "Don't force yourself to eat if you can't, alright?"

"I know. I'm fine, Luke."

He looked down at his own bagel, nodding quietly.

A couple of hours later, the three gathered in the current Senate capital to discuss plans and strategies. The capital, they decided, should move from planet to planet with each election. Leia loved this idea. She loved being able to explore other planets, other cultures…

A week later, the three embarked on a mission to Devoran. Luke was curious about the planet's Jedi history, while Han and Leia was hoping to speak with the leaders there to discuss the spread of remaining Imperial propaganda. Even though the war had been won, there were still Imperial holdouts attempting to encourage others to fight against the galaxy's changes. It was always something.

Leia still felt plagued by exhaustion. She hadn't been sick again, so the guys had left her alone, but it was as though everything that she had been through in the past four years - and, really, longer - was catching up with her. The week of meetings and discussions had felt _so long_. She'd return to the hotel after the talks, and collapse into bed. She hoped the trip to a fresh planet would help her weariness. She was excited about all that was happening in the galaxy, but she hated to admit that maybe she needed a break.

She stood in the cockpit with Luke as Han and Chewie prepared the ship for take off. The Falcon felt like home, at this point. It was a nice feeling. She could tell Han, especially, was happy to be back on his ship. That smuggler quality was still inherent within him; he was never one to stay in one place for too long.

"Away we go!" he declared happily, steering the ship upwards and deep into the sky.

Leia was holding onto his chair, watching the stars begin to appear before them, when she felt her stomach flip. _Oh, no._

She swallowed hard. The higher into space they got, the sicker she began to feel. _What is going on?_ she mentally pleaded.

Leia had been flying in space ships of every variety since she was an infant. She'd been on boats, in planet planes, in every vehicle imaginable, and she was never once ever motion sick. But, with each motion of the Falcon, her stomach tipped, and turned. She swallowed once more, and wondered if maybe the cockpit was just too hot. Maybe she needed some air. Or, maybe she had just gotten used to the hotels, to being on land. Maybe she needed time to adjust. She put a hand to her mouth.

There was no denying it now. She was going to be sick. _Again_. She backed away from the chair, and hurried out of the cockpit, the feeling so suddenly overwhelming that she was seriously terrified that she might not make it to the refresher.

Luckily, she did, just in time for her body to reject the day's consumptions, but not in time for her to be able to close the door. Since when was her body so out of her own control? There was a time in her life when she'd managed to resist interrogation, but she couldn't resist a little nausea?

Han and Luke followed suit, as Chewie took over piloting, and she experienced humiliation round two, as this time her brand new, scoundrel husband gently grasped her braids - at least her hair was braided out of the way this time - and rubbed her back as she was unrelentingly ill on his ship. _This is ridiculous_ , she thought to herself as Luke, once again, kneeled at her side, holding a dampened cloth to her forehead. _What the hell kind of virus do I have that would make me get sick twice within the time span of a week?_

Then, like magic, like something out of a holovid, she froze. The dream. The general strange feeling. Luke's general strange feeling. Feeling perfectly fine after being so uncharacteristically sick. A certain…missing part of her womanhood that she'd chalked up to excessive space travel…

She threw up again in response. And then again. Although she couldn't shake her embarrassment at vomiting yet again in front of an audience, she glanced at Luke out of the corner of her eye. Had he figured it out as she had? They were so connected…

If he did, he didn't show it. He just looked worried. Maybe he was too worried to connect? Leia leaned back from the toilet and into Han's arms as Luke wiped her face with the hand towel. "We're stopping the ship and getting you to a clinic," Han told her matter-of-factly.

Luke nodded wildly. "Are you alright, Leia?" he asked, looking into her eyes with that same worried expression.

Her eyes, her eyes which rarely ever cried, had tears in them. She couldn't answer, overcome by the information that she had just figured out. She was pregnant. _Pregnant._ She was carrying a _child_. _Han's child_. She shook her head. _Darth Vader's grandchild_.

That dream. That dream that played on her worst fears from the moment that Luke had told her the identity of their father. She still hadn't told anyone except Han, and wasn't sure that she ever would or could. As far as she was concerned, her father was Bail Organa.

No, her father would never be Darth Vader. Her child would be born with the potential for light or dark, just as she and Luke had been, and she would lead him or her to the light just as they had led themselves. She was determined. She had to be.

Her water works were being misinterpreted. "Leia!" Luke exclaimed, more frightened than before at the sight of her _crying_. "What is it? Does something hurt? Your stomach?"

She didn't answer, still wordless, as the tears fell in one quick drop. Han wiped the tears with his fingers, and proceeded to lift her from the refresher floor. "I'll lay her down; you go tell Chewie to find a clinic _now_."

The words jolted Leia from her paralyzation, and she struggled to be free from his arms. "No, no, no!" she urged. "I'm fine. Really, I'm fine. It - it was just the motion of the ship. That's all. You can put me down. I'll walk to the room and lie down for a minute. I'm fine."

Han stared at her moving in his arms, dumbfounded. "You're going to a clinic," he repeated. "Leia, you just puked like a drunk bantha! You don't puke! You can't possibly convince me you feel just fine." He lowered her down, anyway, letting her stand, and caressing the side of her still-flushed face. "You're sick, Sweetheart. I know you don't like to admit that, but you're not exactly hiding it very well. You can't help it when you're sick…"

Leia shook her head furiously once more, unwilling to let a clinic be the place where he'd find out about her pregnancy. "Okay, alright," she conceded. "I was a little sick last week, and it's probably still lingering. But, the motion of the ship is what jolted my stomach. That's all. It's just a lingering virus with a little motion sickness. I just need a minute. I'll be okay."

"You've been flying since you were a baby," Luke interjected incredulously. "You don't get motion sickness."

"Well, I did earlier," Leia argued. She put a hand to her forehead. _Pregnant._ "I just need some water."

Luke tossed up his hands in disbelief. He shook his head at Han. "I'll get her some water."

"What is going on with you?" Han asked as Luke headed down the hall. He gestured to the crash couch. "Come on, at least sit down."

Leia dropped down next to him, her stomach still turning, but now her heart racing. She took his hands. "There's something I need to tell you." She paused. Shouldn't she take a test? Isn't that how it worked for normal people? How could she just - _know_?

Because, she wasn't normal. No matter how much she wanted to be, had spent her life trying to be, she had never been normal. First, she was royalty, and now, with each passing second, she was more and more connected with this strange force-sensitivity that had apparently inhabited her since birth.

"Leia, what is it?" Han broke her thoughts, clearly concerned with her extended pause.

She stared into his eyes. "I know I'm pregnant."

Han's face rapidly morphed into shock, then confusion, and then happiness, all before tilting his head to the left and asking with a quirky grin, " _What?_ "

Leia couldn't help but smile despite every bit of fear and shock inside of herself. "I'm pregnant."

Han jumped up, throwing his arms around Leia as she remained sitting on the couch. Luke entered, then, glass of water in hand, and he froze in place, watching them. His face slowly began to change with their expressions. "You're pregnant," he realized aloud, and Leia looked past Han's arms to his thrilled eyes.

"Finally, you figured it out," she laughed.

He walked over to them in awe. "How long have you known?"

She looked from Han, who was sitting back down, giddy, to Luke. "Just a few minutes ago. It was…It was the Force, mostly. I mean, I was thinking about it, but I knew through the Force."

" _Leia!_ " Luke exclaimed suddenly, as though suddenly taking it all in. "You guys are gonna have a baby!"

He threw his arms around his sister, while Han slapped him on the back happily, and she could swear there were tears in both of their eyes. Uncle and Dad.

Happy.

It would only be happy, Leia told herself. It would be happy, and wonderful, and she'd figure out everything else.

She wondered, though, if Luke might at some point be able to sense her fear, too.


End file.
